Whatcha Gonna Do lyrics

[Verse 1]
Once upon a time, not long ago
When gangstas rocked waves, sold dope and sniffed blow
There was a young G by the name of Shyne Poe
Puttin' it down, cuttin' it up and cookin' it now
It's been a lotta di*k ridin', for lack of a better word
Speculations on the guns I hold underneath my furs
Similarities in my voice, n*gga, check the words
I'm livin', went to the doors that pitch birds from the curb
Dodgin' and dippin' the narcs
It's the young Frank Matthews, the rap version
Touch my trap on my smack
The gats burstin', that's certain
Leave ya face and ya chest and ya back j*rkin'
(Uh) Y’all got me f*cked up like
My desert eagle and my sig don't bust right
Like my guns is racin', motherf*cker, don't you know I
Make ya heart stop and ya body start shakin'
Now you know the bottom line of this rhyme crime
25 to life plus 9

[Hook 2X]
Whatcha gon' do when sh*t hit the fan
Take it like a man or snitch like a b*tch
Whatcha gon' do when sh*t hit the fan
Pray to God, go hard or lay up in the morgue
[Verse 2]
Evil grin, dead eyes, walkin' wit' a bop, mobster
Best way to describe my posture
In this world of sin I'm as wicked as they come
Moonlightin' as a rapper, get this ticket and I'm done
Ain't enough money here, I'd rather be in the tropics
Wit’ Corsicans, where narcotics is the only topic
Persian rocks and things, the man that made of snow
Tiger paw, and every other form of raw
Since a teen, been handlin', n*gga been scramblin'
Bettin' on money in Vegas, gamblin'
Desert in the abdomen, p*ssy drunk, stylin', staggerin'
More than you can imagine and (Uh)
Thoughts random and, runnin' through my mind
Like who's the best MC's - Biggie, Jay-Z, and Shyne
Demented as a youngin', Alpo second comin'
Evil thoughts runnin' through my cerebellum
Shyne Poe, what the f*ck you gon' tell 'em?
All you n*ggas that wanna be fly
My gun shots'll propell 'em
Leave 'em somewhere smellin', repellin'
Closed caskets for you f*ckin' bast*rds, c'mon

[Hook 2X]
Whatcha gon' do when sh*t hit the fan
Take it like a man or snitch like a b*tch
Whatcha gon' do when sh*t hit the fan
Pray to God, go hard, or lay up in the morgue
[Verse 3]
Only the strong survive, weak n*ggas bleed
And get found, wit they f*ckin' face down
Numb from the waist down
I done been to hell and back
Twice and still ain't crack
Stared death in the eyes and never blinked
Headshots rip through my mink
Went to war wit the realest killers
Killed friends over jealousy and envy
My heart's empty
Behind the wheel of my Bentley
Coked up, feelin’ invincible
'Bout to take over the world, I can't be stopped
Not the feds or the f*ckin' cops
Not even 17 shots can put a end to this terror
I'ma live forever, 'cause gangstas don't break
We just get plastic surgery and relocate
To another state, or island, smilin'
Money pilin’, wildin'
Yo Puff, overdub them f*ckin' violins
(Uh) This sh*t is bigger than Nino, ask Oliver North
Kill you then use your corpse to transport horse
Leave ya brains hangin' from ya f*ckin' car window
Any n*gga snitchin', givin' info
Since my mother stomach, coke and liquor was the mixture
Better be prepared when we hit ya
[Hook 2X] - repeat to fade
Whatcha gon' do when sh*t hit the fan
Take it like a man or snitch like a b*tch
Whatcha gon' do when sh*t hit the fan
Pray to God, go hard or lay up in the morgue